Sectumsempra: Draco's Story
by Lyxli
Summary: HBP spoilers! How would you feel if you were on the edge of death, not knowing what to do? That's how Draco felt during the chapter Sectumsempra. See the scene through Draco's eyes and occasionally, mind. R&R, please!
1. Depression

Sectumsempra—Draco's Story

Chapter One—Depression

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters.

Anxious, sixteen-year-old Draco Malfoy ran into the boy's bathroom on the sixth floor and slammed the door. That Potter boy once again beat him in Potions. If Draco did not know better, he would have thought that Potter's book was telling him how to cheat. However, there were more things on Draco's mind then the ridiculous Chosen One. The Dark Lord sent him on an important task, and he could not let his mind wander at things as stupid as his grade in Potions. Draco walked across the filthy bathroom floor. He pointed his wand at each of the stalls, blasting the doors away. All of them were empty. At last, Draco was isolated from any other soul. He slumped against the wall, lost in his thoughts. Automatically, his right hand reached up and grasped his left forearm. The Dark Mark. It was not burning, but he feels emotional pain thinking about it. The Dark Lord branded Draco with the Dark Mark shortly after informing Draco that he was to murder Dumbledore. The job seemed easy at the time, but now Draco could not do it. As much as he loathed Dumbledore, Draco could not decide how to kill him. He sat in the bathroom, stressed by the nearly impossible task set in front of him. The Dark Lord would kill Draco if he did not kill Dumbledore. But Draco couldn't…

After pondering for almost twenty minutes, Draco remembered that he was still in Hogwarts. Therefore, he still had classes to attend to. Grudgingly, Draco slowly rose up. He performed a useful spell to clear the grime off of his school robes. He strode across the floor and left. Little did he know that he was being watched.

Draco found it a habit to visit the boy's bathroom whenever he got the chance. The trips seemed to relieve his stress; occasionally, Draco would burst a pipe, or annihilate the bathroom stalls. However, ...


	2. Tears of Sorrow

Chapter Two—Tears of Sorrow

On the fifth time he entered the bathroom, Draco could not control his emotions. Twice, he came up with feeble plans to kill Dumbledore, none that succeeded. Now, Professor Snape, a teacher he once loved, wanted a bit of his glory. Snape wanted to be the Dark Lord's favorite. Draco could not believe it when he heard it. Snape was a teacher whom Draco had once highly respected. Who can Draco turn to for advice now?

Draco half-heartedly blasted the stalls this time, destroying everything including the toilets. Instead of collapsing against a wall and thinking it over, Draco fell to the ground. He landed on his knees and hands, desperate for kindness and compassion. For the first time since his tenth birthday, Draco started to cry. Actual, real tears flowed down his pale face. He had momentarily forgotten what it was like to cry and savored this moment. No matter how hard he tried, Draco could not stop the tears from falling. His father had always said—

His father, Lucious Malfoy. It all comes down to him. Draco would not be weeping on the floor, had not for his father. The Dark Lord was punishing him because of the acts of his father.

Not feeling any better, Draco continued to sob.

"Oh, it's ok, what's wrong?"

Draco hiccuped in surprise at the voice. Cautiously, he looked up. What he saw shocked him.

A transparent, gloomy girl was peering at Draco through large glasses. Her eyes bore sympathy as she stared at Draco.

"W-W-Who are y-you?" Draco managed to stammer.

"I'm Moaning Myrtle," she replied kindly. "Just call my Myrtle. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Draco said quickly. He did not want to tell this strange girl anything.

"Oh, come on, there must be something wrong. Maybe I can help," Myrtle whispered.

"No, no one can help me," Draco moaned.

"Oh, all right, I guess… well then…" Moaning Myrtle started to drift away back to her toilet. Myrtle had secretly been spying on Draco since his first day in the bathroom to mourn. She felt extremely sorry for him, for she knew what it was like to hide in the bathroom, crying.

Draco suddenly said, "No, wait."

It was one of the least things he wanted to do, but Draco had to. It took sixteen years for him to realize something. All his life, he wanted a friend, a real friend. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle could hardly count as his friends. They were his bodyguards. Draco only accompanied them because his father insisted. Draco needed to "learn to be tough." Blaise was all right, but he was not someone Draco could spill his feelings to. The other Slytherins could care less about him. Perhaps Myrtle _can_ help him. Maybe… she could be his _friend_.

Myrtle spun around. "What?"

"Maybe…" Draco whispered, "…there _is _something you can do."

Myrtle tried to hide her glee but failed. "What can I do?"

"I remember you. You're the Mud—girl who died from the basilisk fifty years ago." Draco had a hard time from stopping himself from saying the cruel word. Another habit he picked up from his father. Draco remembered what his father had said.

"_Draco, how dare you let that Mudblood beat you in every subject? You should be ashamed. How could a filthy girl of no magical ancestors score higher than you have on the exam? Remember: Mubloods are second-class compared to us noble purebloods. You should NEVER associate with them."_

Of course, Draco had to listen to his father in order to escape from his tortuous punishments. But Moaning Myrtle was all right… she could understand…

"Yes, that's me," Myrtle replied sadly.

"Then… can you spy on Potter for me?"

Myrtle first looked astonished then nodded. "Anything you want. That'll be easy."

"Right," said Draco, checking his watch. He was late for Transfiguration by five minutes. "I got to go. Bye." And Draco exited before Myrtle could say "see you later."


	3. Discovered

Chapter Three—Discovered

As homework has been increasing at an enormously large rate, Draco found less time to sneak into the bathroom to see Myrtle. He did not love her; after all, she's a ghost. But she understood. She knew what it was like to cry, and have no one to comfort you. He liked her company. He went to the bathroom at least once a week. Myrtle had been able to tell Draco that Harry was trying to spy on _him_. She found lots of useful information about Harry. 

One particularly horrible day, he leaked some information to Myrtle.

Draco hunched over the sink, his head facing the faucet, and his hands gripping the edges. He cried harder than usual.

(excerpt from HBP pg. 521 US version)

_"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't… tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"_

_"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it… I can't… It won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me…"_

Draco gasped. His gray eyes were looking down, but when he raised his head by a millimeter, he spotted a boy in the cracked mirror.

The Chosen One decided to come down for a visit.

Draco whipped around, tears continuing to fall from his eyes. But they were now tears of anger. _So Potty thought it would be fun to spy on me, huh?_

After many spells and curses emitted from each wand, Draco lost control. All his anger at Harry shot out in the form of one curse. Not thinking of the consequences, Drako bellowed out the one curse that could make Harry regret coming in the boy's bathroom.

"Cruci—" 

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!"_

Potter's curse hit Draco across his chest. He felt as though a sharp sword was slicing his body. Draco didn't have enough energy to yell out as he collapsed onto the floor, drenched in his own blood…

_No…all I wanted was a friend… a real friend… I don't want to join the Death Eaters… I don't want to be enemies with Potter…I wish it would all end! I want to restart my life! I just want a _normal _life…_was Draco's last thought before he fell unconscious.


End file.
